Sirius Misuse of a Broomstick
by WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo
Summary: Bill Weasley catches Sirius doing something unusual with a broom. Sirius/Bill, Bill/Charlie, Sirius/James.


**Warnings:** Object penetration, masturbation, oral sex, underage implied but not described, incest.

**Disclaimer:** I am not JK Rowling in the least so these characters and settings did not spring from my imagination at all, so she owns them and I don't.

**Notes:** Written for luvscharlie for hpvalensmut on live journal. One of her prompts was: "That is a serious misuse of a broomstick." That's what got me thinking and this is what happened. I hope that you approve. Belated Happy Valentine's!

A big thank you to my wonderfully picky beta, lilmisblack.

* * *

><p><span>Sirius Misuse of a Broomstick<span>

The Order was gathered around the long table in the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore cast a _Tempus_ and frowned.

"As is often the case," he observed, "it is the person who has the least far to travel who is the latest to arrive. We had better proceed with business, we have a lot to get through and it is imperative that our Aurors and our spies are not noticed as absent. If we begin with a report on the Ministry, then perhaps a member who is not directly involved might go upstairs and seek him out?"

There were several volunteers; Dumbledore nodded at Bill.

Bill didn't know the old house well and, frankly, it creeped him out. He checked inside the dusty rooms he passed; creatures and entities went scurrying off into the shadows. On the fourth floor he heard a noise coming from inside a cupboard. It was a grunt. He couldn't think of a good reason why anybody might be grunting inside a cupboard. When he tried the door, it was locked. He braced himself to rescue, unlocked, and then opened it.

What he saw inside was not what he had expected to see. In fact, it was not something which even his sophisticated imagination could ever have come up with. At least he'd found Sirius. He had also by the looks of it found the Black family's storeroom for old racing brooms, one of which was flying, and in a completely unlikely direction.

The notorious Sirius Black was braced against the wall with his robes pulled up and flung over his shoulder, leaving him naked from the waist down; the broom was inserted handle-first (well at least it wasn't the other way around) between his buttocks. It hovered parallel to the floor, pushing rapidly in and out. Sirius' facial expression might have been misinterpreted as one of pain by someone with less experience of aroused men than Bill had. The contorted features were not his only clue, of course, there was also Sirius' long, red, hard, veined, dripping penis sticking straight out from his body. Bill really did try to tear his gaze away from it but it couldn't be done.

Sirius leaned his forehead against the wall. His arms were trembling, as though he was on the verge of collapse. Every inch of his skin was dripping with sweat and flushed a deep red. He groaned and grunted with abandon.

Bill wasn't sure that he'd been noticed until Sirius asked in a strained voice, "Give me a hand?"

"Huh?" Bill's brain seemed to have closed down. When he took a step forward he felt his own hard cock straining against the fabric of his trousers. Cock. Right. Sirius was holding onto the wall, so he needed an extra hand. Adrenaline flooded Bill's body in a surge clearing his thoughts.

Quickly, he moved right into the cupboard so that he could close the door. He locked it again and put up a silencing charm. Hand? No, he had a better idea. His mouth watered. In one movement, he sank to his knees and slipped between Sirius' body and the wall. Sirius' cock pushed onto his face and away again with every thrust of the broom. He opened his mouth.

As Bill was filled with the tastes of musk and iron and the heavy heat and bruising motion of it all, Sirius screamed out even louder than before. Bill moved his head forward and opened his throat. He tried to grab Sirius' low-swinging, black-haired balls, but the thrusts were too rapid. He got a fist somewhere near Sirius' perineum, though. He needed his other hand against the wall to keep his balance.

"Gonna, I'm... It's..." Sirius panted out.

"Mmmmhmmm," Bill managed in response. He didn't pull back.

He swallowed and spluttered as the thick liquid sprayed into his mouth. Sirius ran a hand through Bill's hair. He groaned again and shuffled backwards, making his cock plop out of Bill's mouth. When Bill opened his eyes, he saw that the twigs of the broom were still moving to and fro beyond the pale glisten of Sirius' arse.

"_Finite Incantatem,_"he whispered.

"Thanks," Sirius grunted.

There was near-silence for a few minutes, disturbed by only the deep breathing of men recovering from intense exercise.

Eventually Sirius straightened up and asked, "Were we supposed to be somewhere?"

"Fuck. Yes. Order Meeting in the kitchen."

"Better get there, then. Thanks for that. Glad it was you who was sent to find me. Not a word, right?"

"Right," was all Bill could manage.

Sirius righted his robes and headed down the stairs. It was a few more minutes before Bill was able to stagger after him.

* * *

><p>The incident in the broom cupboard played on Bill's mind for weeks. February approached, and that meant Valentine's Day, which he always spent in Romania. He knew a certain ex-seeker who would love that particular broom trick.<p>

Eventually, he cornered Sirius on the landing outside the drawing room and asked him to show him how to do it. Sirius raised a dark, shapely eyebrow.

"All those N.E.W.T.s and you don't know that spell?" he asked, amused. "What on earth did you waste your time doing when you were at school?"

Bill begged; Sirius stopped playing with him.

"Come up to my lair, then, little fly."

"You're a spider now?"

"A deadly one, and you are trapped in my web! Mwa ha ha." Sirius looked back as they climbed the stairs: "Scared yet?"

"No. Not scared." Aroused was what he was feeling. The closer they got to the cupboard, the more difficult it was to walk.

Sirius pulled a deranged face. "What about now? Scared now?"

"Not exactly."

"I'm trying to look like my poster. Is it working?" Sirius opened the cupboard door and made an elegant sweeping gesture into the dank space. Bill bowed and walked in, followed by Sirius who locked the door. Bill cast a silencing spell.

"That'll be what I forgot last time, then."

"Just a bit."

"Is that how you discovered me?"

"Half-naked and being buggered by a Nimbus is how I discovered you, if you remember."

"I'm not about to forget it." Sirius ran his thumb over Bill's lips. "Nice work. That wasn't your first time I take it?"

Bill thought of Charlie, writhing on his narrow bed at the Burrow, his skin flushed and bare, without even ink on it yet, gripping the floral bed-sheets, panting and biting his lips to keep in his moans, as Bill took his first taste of cock.

"Not the first," he agreed. He rolled a broomstick from a shelf. "You gonna show me how it's done, then?"

"You want the quick version or the slow version?" Sirius asked.

"What's the difference?"

"When you caught me, I was using it to speed up the wank. Gets the old prostate involved in things. Makes it a bit tricky to actually do the tugging, though. However, with a bit more time on your hands, you can instruct the broom to do a long, lazy stretch on you and then get it to fuck you for hours."

"And you learnt this at school?"

Sirius smiled softly. "Oh, yes," he said.

* * *

><p><em>There was ice on the wooden <em>_door; it glinted__ in their wand-light. The stars were behind the clouds tonight. James' breath puffed out of him in a white mist. Beyond his dark, mussed hair, Sirius could see the castle. Most of the windows were dark, with just the odd candle-glow spotted about the place as Professors marked late, and a couple of disparate shots of white wand-light where someone else was out of bed and up to no good._

_James whispered a password which only the Gryffindor Quidditch team knew; the door opened. They stepped off frosted grass and onto wooden boards. The room smelled of sawdust and was barely warmer than the grounds outside._

_James took Sirius' hand to drag him between shelf units and lockers to the back __wall, which__ was studded with hooks on which the broomsticks hung._

_"Choose one," James whispered, his voice jagged with excitement._

_"To fly?" Sirius asked stupidly. As much as he loved sneaking out with James (which was a lot) he liked to know what was going on. There were better games they could play together than Quidditch._

_James laughed a deep, dirty, dangerous laugh. He grabbed hold of the back of Sirius' neck and pulled their mouths together. After a brief, rough, kiss he whispered, "Get your kit off, Padfoot, and I'll teach you something."_

* * *

><p>As soon as he stepped from the Floo, they kissed. They were all teeth and spit and ginger stubble, scraping against each other's faces. Hands ran hungrily over each other's bodies. Then Charlie clenched his fists in Bill's robes and slammed him against the wall of the cottage.<p>

"Too much," he huffed. "Want you too much."

"Miss-you-love-you-need-you," Bill panted.

Their clothed erections rubbed against each other.

Bill's back was pushed into the wall; plaster crumbled in a light powder onto his shoulders.

"Fuck me," Charlie begged.

"Soon," Bill promised, but they were both too close to climax now for that.

He hitched his robes and Charlie struggled against him to do the same. The friction pushed them closer to completion. Neither of them wore anything under their robes, they knew better than that on St Valentine's day. There was only ever the two of them today. They made sure of that.

Bill bent his knees and Charlie arched up so that they were perfectly aligned. Then they frotted like schoolboys, following their urges and obeying their own body's rhythms, until Bill held his breath to hear how close Charlie was. Close. "Come now," he commanded.

It nearly worked this time, only Bill was slightly ahead of his brother. They kissed at each other's necks as they spasmed and sprayed and surrendered to pleasure.

"Now fuck me," Charlie demanded.

"Later," Bill said. "Tonight. In bed." He pulled a crumpled cigarette packet from his pocket and offered it.

"You getting old?" Charlie asked, taking one and lighting both of theirs with his wand. "Boring bastard!" he exhaled smoke dismissively. "Bed indeed!"

"I've got something else to show you first. You'll like this."

"Yeah?" Charlie rubbed a rough hand over Bill's now flaccid and sticky cock, making it perk up. "More than I like this?"

"Wait and see. Where's your old school broom?" He inhaled smoke deep into his lungs to calm his nerves and excitement.

"We can play knock-about Quidditch next time I go home. There'll be enough Weasleys for a proper team then. It's no good with just two of us. When there's just the two of us and nobody to watch, we can..." he licked Bill's chest.

"You'll like this. I promise. Now, go and get it."

"It's at Mum and Dad's. I'm a busy man, I don't have toys around the place."

Bill just shook Charlie off him. "Liar," he said. He crossed the room and opened the airing cupboard. After a smug Revealing Charm, Bill pulled the broom from the cupboard. He tapped his cigarette ash onto Charlie's rug.

"Well, sometimes there's an emergency and I don't have time to get issued with one of the Reserve's official ones," Charlie muttered.

Bill licked his lips. "Take your clothes off and come here."

Charlie shrugged off his robes as he walked, keeping eye contact with his big brother, cigarette drooping from his mouth and smoke in his eyes, shucking the material to the floor as he revealed his stocky, multi-coloured body. When he reached Bill, he got a hand stroking over his short, spiky hair and a quick, rough kiss to the neck.

Then Bill closed the airing cupboard door, threw away Charlie's cigarette, took hold of Charlie's wrists and planted his hands on the painted wood of it. Charlie scratched his nails down the shiny paint.

Bill stepped back, flicking away his own cigarette butt, and admired his brother's form. His arse was firm and well-muscled. Bill noted a new burn scar across one buttock. His back was a pale, flat gallery of tattooed pictures of magical creatures mostly but not exclusively dragons in greens and reds and blues, which tumbled against each other, sniffing and scratching. His strong arms were roped with veins as he tensed expectantly.

Bill tapped the broom with his wand in the pattern which Sirius had showed him. He chanted the words he had practiced every night since that lesson. The wood levitated itself so that it hovered parallel to the floor. He aimed it, closing one eye and focussing on the ginger-downed valley down the centre of Charlie's arse. "Spread your cheeks," he ordered.

Watching Bill over his shoulder, Charlie lowered one hand to grasp at a buttock. Where his fingers sank in, the flesh went white, accentuating how much those cheeks were blushing.

Bill had sight of the tight, purple knot of Charlie's hole now. He lined up the broom. Then he tapped it twice.

It shot from his hand. Bill straightened up to watch its progress. Charlie released a sharp cry as it reached its target, but that was followed by a deep moan as the rounded end of the wood nudged gently at him. Gradually its pace increased and Charlie's response speeded up, too. Bill could see the glisten of the lubricant produced on the wood by the spell. Suddenly Charlie's thighs sprang further apart and, with deep pants, he returned his second hand to the wall for support.

Bill edged closer. The broom was through the ring of muscle. Red skin surrounded it. He placed steadying hands on Charlie's waist as the broom began to thrust.

Whenever Charlie could manage to get out a word, it was a swear word. Mostly he just swallowed and gasped. Bill eased closer. Charlie jerked back against the broomstick, forcing it in deeper. Bill kissed his decorated, sweat-varnished shoulder. Charlie looked so happy now; Bill loved to make his baby brother happy. He slipped down to his knees and manoeuvred between Charlie's groin and the cupboard.

He licked his lips, opened his mouth, and Charlie threw his head back and came into it without warning. Bill took the pulsing cock deep into his mouth and sucked until Charlie was all finished, and then he whispered thickly, "_Finite Incantatem._"

The broom eased backwards and then clattered to the floor. Charlie fell into Bill's lap.

"You like?" Bill asked.

"Where the hell did you learn to do that?" Charlie demanded.

Bill wasn't about to tell.


End file.
